Waxing Lyrical
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Waxed codpieces, a good singing voice...Level 80 Elite Tauren Chieftain had it all. The same couldn't be said for poor Donut however. After all, while Char had zerg in abundance, elbow grease and headlight fluid were hard to come by...


_There, you are all clean._

_Thanks, but you didn't need to spend so much time on the codpiece, Donut._

_A three-coat waxing is just my way of saying I care._

Conversation overheard on Sidewinder, source unknown

* * *

**Waxing Lyrical**

"Strapped into powered armour, got all the ladies always looking at me. They can't believe the size of my over-engineered codpiece."

"Um, El?"

"Well I'm a convict, in a siege tank alright."

"El?"

"Not protossin' not zergin...no I'm terran up the night!"

"Alright, that's enough."

Level 80 Elite Tauren Chieftain, a.k.a. L80ETC, turned to face Jim Raynor, a.k.a. "Eugene" as the Castanar mission had demonstrated. Or rather, look down on rather than face per se, because even with the height increase provided to both of them by CMC armour, the tauren still stood a good two feet above the terran.

"You interuptin' me?" the tauren asked the human. "Again?"

"Yes, again. As in, I want you to sing a bit less and fire your gun a bit more."

The bovine let out a snort and turned to face the udder chaos of the battle line. The "biggest turkey shoot in the galaxy" as one of Raynor's men had called it, said terran managing to smoke a cigar while manning a gun turret. Worthy of respect any day.

"I'm providing moral support," the rockstar insisted. "You know...about how your men are 'terran up the night'."

"Yeah...that pun got old after your tracks went platinum. And we've already got Banshees playing _Ride of the Valkyries_, so I think the musical front is covered."

L80ETC supposed he'd have to concede that point-Banshees were playing music, firebats were going on about the smell of napalm in the morning (not that you could really tell what time of day it was on Char) and in the barracks, Viking pilots were watching some old 20th century Old Earth movie.

_Maybe I can join them after my shift..._

Following Raynor back to the trench and firing 88mm slugs from his Impala rifle, the rockstar briefly reflected on how he'd got here. He'd been preparing for a rock concert on Mar Sara when the zerg invaded, forcing him to lift off in his tauren outhouse. A few close encounters of the fecal kind across the Koprulu Sector later, and he'd decided to join the battlecruiser he kept bumping into.

_Which turned out to be headed to Char..._the tauren reflected as he slashed a zergling with his rifle's energy blade. _Well...don't have a cow I guess..._

"Strapped into powered armour, got all the ladies always looking at me..."

"Shut up El."

"Pardon?"

Raynor opened his mouth, then closed it. Just as one of the Raiders closed his before scurrying off down the line.

"Crap..." the black-armoured rebel leader murmured. "It's started to spread."

"Hey, you've been hitting them with country music for the last month," the tauren pointed out. "I can't help it if your men's tastes aren't as antiquated as yours."

The commander opened his mouth again, closed it again and somewhere down the line, a marauder was tearing a hydralisk's jaw off. A mercy killing, considering what happened next.

"You know, I've just realized..." the space cowboy began. "I never noticed until now how shiny your codpiece is."

_What the hell?_

"Hey, don't get me wrong," Raynor added, seeing the tauren's look of confusion that seemed to be one step away from psychosis. "I hardly went looking, but considering the lyrics, and that it's the only part of your armour that isn't covered in-..."

"Yeah, yeah, when you're flying around in an outhouse for a month, things get...messy," L80ETC interrupted. "Besides, special attention was given to the codpiece when I had it cleaned."

"Pardon?"

"Oh yeah. Some guy named Private Donut."

"Don't know him..."

"Nah...he was a Dominion marine. Poor guy had pink armour instead of the standard issue red. Just showed me how much he cared by giving the codpiece a three-coat waxing."

Raynor fell silent before deciding that he was better off spending the next two minutes expending his guass rifle's clip against the charging zerg. Letting out a shrug, the tauren decided to join him. Now that the awkwardness was over, he could...

"Okay, seriously..._waxing the codpiece?_"

Either Raynor had a better trigger finger than L80ETC thought, or he was simply distracted. At least with the Banshees playing _The End _now, and the end of the zerg attack approaching, he had precedent to.

"Yeah, it did seem weird..." the tauren admitted. "But hey, don't worry. I sent him to the store to pick up some headlight fluid for the Warthogs."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry...I mean Sabers..."

"_What?"_

"Oh, and some elbow grease..."

"No...what?" Raynor asked. "What store? What headlight fluid?"

_Of our elaborate plans the end..._

"**What?"**

"Wait, what?" asked a Raider standing beside a yellow armoured marine.

The poor human was confused. Maybe it was due to the music track. Maybe it was due to the store. Maybe it was due to the yellow soldier forcing everyone to ask "wait, what?"

Or maybe it was because Donut was running back to the line with a blue flag in his hands and a pursuing ultralisk.

* * *

_A/N_

_So yes...I've combined the codpiece aspect of _Red vs. Blue: Season 3 _and _Terran Up the Night _to produce...this._

_Now if you excuse me, my Puma needs some headlight fluid. 0_0_


End file.
